Observations in Miniature: Different Drivers

If you see yourself amongst these people it might be time to change your driving habits.

Granny Driver – If the only part of your body that I can see when I’m behind you is your knuckles on the steering wheel and the floral arrangement on your hat then you might be too shriveled and old to drive. The lines on the road are there for a reason. Your car is not a pinball that can careen happily back and forth over three lanes hitting the guard rails and bouncing back into traffic. Here’s a clue, that 1962 decommissioned aircraft carrier on wheels without power steering that you drive and can’t seem to control needs to be dry docked, yes, sent to that great resting place for over the hill vessels and stripped down and the excess scrap metal used to build a wing on the new children’s hospital. I’m sure you make great cookies and someone out there loves their granny but the fact is that you’re a horrible fucking driver and I’d feel a lot safer with you behind a pair of knitting needles than the wheel of a car.

Middle Aged Corvette Guy – I don’t know what’s shinier the bold spot on your head or the wax job on your cherry red Corvette. For God’s sake button up your shirt, I could stuff three throw pillows with all the chest hair hanging out of it. And that gold chain with the medallion on it that’s blowing up in your face in the wind isn’t helping matters, it makes you look like a retired porn star. Do you feel the need for speed? Are you randy from the Viagra cocktail you just ingested with the Bloody Mary? Here’s a clue you aren’t going to hook up with a hot 21 year old babe no matter how much pheromone cologne you douse yourself with so stop cursing night clubs and start cruising the retirement village, the women there, many of whom use walkers, won’t be able to run away from you like everyone else does.

Monster Truck Guy – Yeah, Mopar, I get it you’re car part savvy. Nice decal of a guy peeing on the window on the back of your cab. How original, a W 04 and an American Flag bumper sticker on your tailgate. You have a lot in common with George Bush don’t you? Do you guys get together and discuss how getting rid of the dividend tax has allowed you to expand your investment portfolio? Oh, you don’t have an investment portfolio? Stupid me. When it’s snowing out and you pass me going 75 mph do you really think that even with your 40 inch super knobby tires you are going to be able stop on a sheet of ice? No? So, slow the fuck down because the person you hit could be me and if you do I sincerely hope you kill me because if you don’t I’m going to get out and strangle you with that stupid Rebel flag hanging in the window of your cab.


Sports Car Punk - You are not Vin Diesel and no matter how many fins and pieces of plastic you super glue to your Honda Accord it will never be a Ferrari. And yes, I am giving you a dirty look. You just passed me doing 125 mph in your tuna can on wheels and nearly ran me off the road. You are not playing a video game and the world isn’t out to get you, that’s the carbon monoxide talking, which is leaking into your car from that loud muffler you “self-installed” on your car. Here’s a clue, instead of working 60 hours a week to buy new accessories for your $2000 dollar car why don’t you study and get good grades, go to college, and then become something? Then you really will be able to buy a Ferrari and will become something else other than a pain in my ass whenever I drive through the Giant parking lot.

Seat too far back guy – Does your car have a front seat home slice? Why does it look like you’re driving sitting in the back seat? Are you wearing stilts so you can touch the gas pedal and breaks? Take your feet off the dashboard, you might need them to stop your car and turn down the fucking bass on your stereo, my coffee cup just vibrated out of its holder. I get it, you’re laid back, too cool for the front seat, there’s a bigger party going on in the back seat, but you’re not really driving your car are you? You’re improvising, lunging forward when you need to stop and straining like a mother fucker to even get the tips of your fingers to touch the steering wheel. Improvising is fine in Jazz or even when your boat is leaking and you plug the hole with a hotdog roll but when you’re driving it can be deadly so be a big boy and move up to the front seat so we all feel a little safer on the road.

Minivan Momma –Your days of driving like a maniac were over the day junior’s umbilical cord was cut so don’t try to pass me with twelve kids in that underpowered three cylinder minivan from 1985, you’re just going to sit in the passing lane unable to build up enough speed to beat the old guy on the side of the road in a wheelchair. You didn’t just cut me off and then flip me the finger did you? Calm down, try to show some restraint in front of the horde, I’m not trying to beat you to Chucky Cheese, there will still be pizza there if you’re ten minutes late. And please put some clothing on, you’re not Hugh Hefner, stop wearing your pajamas when you’re running around town, coupled with your unkempt appearance you look like a deranged circus clown. Be careful and remember the little ones in the back of your minivan are the future of our country…God help us...